Tambourine
by DatNookieThang
Summary: Camilla and Cookie go head-to-head, but there can only be one alpha female.
_He came out to the world._

Watching her splendid boy Jamal take a bow to the roaring of the crowd, Cookie had never been happier. Cookie had tried to drag her son out of the closet. Lucious tried to force him to stay inside. In the end, Jamal did what he wanted to do on his own terms, and Cookie loved and respected him even more for that. Mama didn't always know best.

Cookie's eyes darted around the room, and…yes! There was Vernon…Andre and Rhonda…Hakeem and Great Auntie Camilla…all of them looked just as happy and proud as Cookie was. Even Anika looked impressed. Lucious, however, had a look on his face that was a mixture of shock and fury – mainly fury. That made Cookie even happier.

Cookie had come to the party with Jamal. She had intended to leave with Lucious. But Jamal had been right. Lucious was incapable of loving anybody except himself. He stood there and ripped Cookie's heart out of her chest as casually as if he was telling her the time. But as much as Cookie couldn't stand Anika, she felt a little sad watching this Ivy League debutante beaming with joy as the cameras flashed while she floated down the red carpet on his arm. This young girl had no idea what she was getting herself into. She would ruin her life by marrying this man, and it would be useless to tell her so.

Then Cookie remembered Lucious had told Anika they slept together just the other day. Not only did Anika still want to marry him, the dumb bitch pushed the wedding date up. You could go all the Ivy League schools in the world and still be dumb as hell.

" _Mrs. Lyon! Mrs. Lyon!"_ The press was everywhere. Cookie wished they'd concentrate more on Jamal, or even on Lucious and Anika. And she wished to God that they'd stop calling her _Mrs_. Lyon.

" _Cookie, what are your thoughts on your son's coming out tonight!"_

" _Mrs. Lyon!"_

One thing Cookie got sick of – other than people calling her Mrs. Lyon as if she was still married to Lucious - was people asking her if she supported her gay son or not. Her ex-husband was marrying a child and her youngest son was dating a senior citizen. As far as Cookie was concerned, Jamal's sexuality was a non-issue. Cookie told reporter after reporter that she was proud of her son and supported him 100%. She talked and talked until her voice grew hoarse.

Even from across the room, Jamal could see how frustrated his mother was becoming. "There she is! There's my date! Mom!" Jamal, still sweaty and beaming, ran up to Cookie and kissed her cheek, escorting her away from the press. "Just give me, like, 20 minutes, okay?"

"No, you stay!" Cookie yelled over the music. "I'm taking a cab home. This is your night, Jamal. Enjoy it! I'm so proud of you, baby!"

"Hey, why don't you take my room?" Jamal dug an electronic key card from his back pocket. "All the performers got guest suites for the night. That way, you don't have to leave and you can come down later if you want to. It's room 319."

"Okay," Cookie said gratefully. "I will." She hugged and kissed her son again. Maybe she was going overboard, but Cookie couldn't help it. She was so proud of her son.

"Mom. Mom!" Jamal looked around, anxious. "Have you…have you talked to Dad?"

"I haven't seen him, 'Mal." Cookie watched her middle son's shoulders deflate. She knew he would've traded all the kudos in the world for his father's approval. "I'm sorry, baby."

"Yeah, well…I am, too."

Cookie knew Jamal was thinking about the upcoming announcement of Lucious and Anika's marriage. Jamal had warned Cookie not to get involved with her ex-husband again, but she didn't listen. He had every right to say _I told you so_. Instead, Jamal took his mother's hand and kissed it. "Go get some rest, Mama. I'll see you later tonight or tomorrow, okay?"

"Probably tomorrow, Jamal. I can't keep up with you young folks." Cookie didn't want to think about Anika or Lucious or anything but a luxury suite, hopefully with a hot tub and a nice, big bed. She looked forward to the quiet evening alone, away from all the noise and the people and those dreaded words that were about to drop any minute now. Cookie didn't want to be anywhere nearby when the announcement was made.

Cookie hadn't been alone in her thinking. Standing on the balcony to the left of her was Camilla Marks. "Good evening, Cookie," she greeted coolly, her English accent bringing her already frosty greeting down another 10 degrees. Camilla didn't like this obnoxious shrew, but Cookie _was_ Hakeem's mother. Respect had to be paid. "What are you doing all the way up here?"

"I could ask you the same question." Other than Lucious or Anika, Camilla was the last person that Cookie wanted to see. "Shouldn't you be downstairs molesting my son?"

Camilla ignored the barb. "I came up here for a smoke."

" _Hmph._ Figures that a nasty bitch like you would have a nasty habit." Cookie walked back into the suite without saying anything more.

"I'm sure a nasty bitch like you has a lot of habits coming out of prison," Camilla countered.

Smoking had been one of them, but Cookie didn't let on. She could've actually used a cigarette right then. "And you didn't answer my question." Camilla came back into the suite and stood in the doorway that separated Jamal's suite from Hakeem's. "I'm up here because I'm with Hakeem. What are you doing up here?"

"Jamal gave me his key so he could stay out with his friends. I'm staying here for the night."

Camilla rolled her eyes. "Nice story. You really expect me to believe that?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Cookie demanded. "I don't need to lie to impress you."

"Uh-huh. Well, I still don't believe your story. Let me guess. Lucious was your ride home, wasn't he? Now you're stuck here because he's parading Anika around right now and you have nothing to show for it except rug burns on your arse?"

Camilla had shot below the belt. "Bitch, ain't nobody crying about Lucious." Cookie had run out of tears to cry years and years ago.

"You're right about that, Cookie. You certainly aren't crying over him. But that's because you don't want Lucious. You want Anika." The look on Cookie's face just then told Camilla that she was right. "She's cute, too," she added after taking a long drag from her cigarette. "Got a nice little arse on her. But I'm told that you look pretty hot in lingerie yourself. Tell me something, Cookie, did you really strip in front of your entire family?"

Cookie burned at yet another memory of making a fool of herself over Lucious. So many times in just a few weeks. "Hakeem told you about his mama dressed in lingerie? What kinda freaky sex life y'all having?"

"He told it to me to illustrate what a joke you are. Still, I would've liked to have seen that." Camilla grinned wickedly. "You know, for a dried-up ex-con, you don't look half bad." Camilla stepped into Cookie's suite, lit cigarette still in hand, and circled Cookie slowly. "Your Spanx game could be better, and 1988 wants its ponytail back. But you definitely have Anika beat in the butt department."

"Bitch, there ain't a damn thing under my clothes but my skin." Cookie knew she was beautiful – she always had been - but her stomach was a little softer than she wanted it to be, and the lines under her eyes were a little too hard thanks to nights spent without sleep. Camilla, on the other hand, was slaying from head to toe despite being a few months older than Cookie. Hair laid like stew on rice. Face beat like a white girl playing Serena Williams. Clothing and jewelry flawless, body chiseled and skin as smooth as silk. "You look nice. I'll admit it." Cookie complimented Camilla the only way she knew how - begrudgingly. "Like I said, you would've made a good bitch for me in prison. Now get out of my suite before I make you my bitch right now."

Camilla shook her head. "What did I tell you about all that tough talk of yours? You don't scare me just because you went to prison. In fact, I think you're full of shit."

"Excuse you?" Cookie walked up to Camilla until they were practically touching. Even in three inch heels, Cookie was shorter than Camilla. "What did you say to me, _bitch?"_

"You heard me, _bitch_." Camilla took a long drag of her cigarette and exhaled before speaking again. "I think you're full of shit. You haven't even kissed a girl, have you? If anybody in this room is about to be somebody's bitch tonight, it's _you,_ Cookie."

Between the alcohol and the fatigue, Cookie couldn't tell if Camilla's comment was a threat, a challenge or an open invitation. "Get out," Cookie ordered, tired of trying to figure it all out. A little intimidated, too. Cookie was used to women cowering under her gaze, but Camilla held firm.

"I'll get out when you answer my question."

"What are you talking about?" Cookie asked, having been pushed to her limit. "What question?"

"Have you ever made love to a woman before?"

"None of your goddamned business!" The blood rushed to Cookie's head at the sound of Camilla's mocking laughter. "Now get out my suite!"

"Make me."

"What?"

"I said make me, Cookie, since you're so tough. There's nothing between the two of us but air and opportunity." And Camilla blew a cloud of smoke right in Cookie's face.

Anyone from Cookie's north Philly neighborhood knew that the Holloway girls were tough. But none of them were tougher than Cookie. She had to maintain that toughness in prison, too, since way too many women thought that she was soft because she was Lucious Lyon's wife. Disrespect was dealt with immediately and with brute force. Over the years, Cookie spent many nights in solitary confinement for a number of infractions, but it helped to get the point across: anyone coming for Cookie Lyon was going to get dealt with.

But Cookie had underestimated Camilla, who spent her childhood trailing her four Jamaican-born brothers to boxing and karate classes, earning her black belt at 13. By high school, Camilla was embraced by the local girls, running with a crew of razor-spitting island girls in the slums of London. Camilla also had five inches over Cookie, excellent health thanks to personal trainers and chefs, and the kind of intuition that only exquisite women who had spent their entire lives fighting against jealous girls tended to have.

So when Cookie went to slap the cigarette out of Camilla's mouth, Camilla trapped Cookie's wrist and spun her in a tight circle, straight through the doorway and into Hakeem and Camilla's suite. Camilla swiftly grabbed Cookie's other wrist and slammed Cookie into the wall, face first. She placed her knee between Cookie's thighs and pinned both of her arms over her head, grinning triumphantly as she pressed her breasts into Cookie's back.

"Checkmate, bitch," Camilla whispered, letting her lips brush Cookie's neck.

It was a moment Camilla would savor for the rest of her life. The more Cookie tried to move, the more she was trapped, and the pressure Camilla was putting against Cookie's body was slowly cutting off her oxygen. But if Cookie was scared – and she _was_ scared, Camilla could tell – she would never let it show. Even while Cookie was trying to gulp air down, she would never apologize or ask for mercy. This loudmouthed little bitch had heart.

But Camilla had something else in mind other than having Cookie pass out from lack of oxygen. She let go of Cookie's wrists and snaked one arm around her waist. Camilla's other hand slid up Cookie's stomach and breasts and neck. She cupped Cookie by the chin and tilted her head upward and back. Being taller than Cookie made it easy for Camilla to dip down and bring her lips to Cookie's.

They both tasted of mint – Cookie of peppermint, Camille of menthol. In contrast to Camilla's rough grasp, her kiss was as light as air. It left Cookie reeling. "Stop it," she protested weakly when Camilla finally let her go. _"Stop._ Hakeem…"

"…is fucking some girl downstairs who just turned 18 and wanted to lose her virginity to him. So stop fighting me. We both know that you want Anika. And," Camilla added, slowly sliding Cookie's pantsuit off her shoulders and down her waist, "we both know that you want me, too."

Actually, Cookie hadn't given Camilla a second thought since the moment they met, but ever since little fake-ass Halle Berry paraded around wearing nothing but lacy underwear and heels, Cookie had dreamed of throwing her up against the wall and fucking her prison-style. She'd seen it enough times to know how it was done, but she'd never had the courage to try it herself. For weeks, Cookie fell asleep with her hand between her legs, thinking about her ex-husband's girl and how Boo Boo's kitty would feel and taste. Now, with Camilla pushing her pantsuit down her shoulders and her waist and trailing kisses down her spine, Cookie's curiosity came back with a vengeance.

"Come on, Cookie. Let me fuck you." Camilla traced Cookie's back tattoo with her tongue while kissing the small of her back. "You think some rich debutante from an all-girls' school won't know what to do with another girl? You don't, but she does."

When Cookie didn't reply, Camilla gently pulled Cookie's pantsuit past her hips, leaving Cookie wearing nothing but a white thong made of dental floss and dreams. With Cookie's cheek pressed against the wall, Camilla hooked her fingers into Cookie's underwear and pulled it down slowly. "Uh-uh," Camilla said when Cookie tried to turn around. She placed both hands inside Cookie's thighs, wordlessly coaxing her to widen her stance. "You're going to see just how long my tongue is."

What was now pouring from Cookie's fantasies and into her real life was extremely disjointed. It was supposed to be Anika who was writhing underneath Cookie's tongue. It was Anika who was supposed to be pleasured by Cookie's fingers and tongue carefully sliding in and out. It was Anika who was supposed to be crying out as she grinded herself against Cookie's wet, wanting mouth. But Cookie was in Anika's place and Camilla was in Cookie's place, and that threw everything off. That, and something else. Something that was pressing up against Cookie's back when Camilla stood up. "What is that?" Cookie finally asked when she caught her breath.

"It's not a tambourine." Camilla laughed. "Don't worry," she added. "There's a condom on it."

"Wait…a condom on _what_?"

Camilla ignored the question, taking Cookie by her hips and turned her around. "Hmm. I wouldn't have taken you for the type." Camilla traced the landing strip on top of Cookie's mound again and again, dragging her finger out longer and slower as she knelt back down. "This gives my tongue a perfect guide, you know." Soon, Cookie's soft whimpers ramped up to full-blown moaning, and Camilla's chin was coated in moisture.

Deftly, Camilla worked her hand up her skirt and began to finger herself carefully, wishing that she wasn't wearing her usual long acrylics. It was very important that Cookie not see her break, not even for a second. After a deep, stealth orgasm washed across Camilla's body, Camilla could focus solely on Cookie. "Mmm, I could stay down here all night." Cookie seized the sides of Camilla's head while Camilla opened her mouth wider and slurped contently, not wasting a single drop of Cookie's juices. "Virgin cunt always tastes _so_ good."

"Virgin?"Cookie had three sons, and Camilla was fucking one of them.

"One man and no women? You're a virgin, Cookie. But we're going to fix that."

Camilla cupped Cookie's ass in her hands and went back to her feast. Cookie hooked one leg on Camilla's shoulder for balance, which gave Camilla easier access to Cookie's clit. Camilla also had the advantage of being close to the bathroom's full length door mirror. Watching Cookie butt naked and writhing while Camilla hadn't even taken off her heels, was an incredible turn-on.

The sound of Cookie banging the back of her head against the wall forced Camilla to tear her lips from between Cookie's "Cookie. Don't hurt yourself like that." While Camilla wasn't beneath beating Cookie's ass in a hotel room, she had no intentions of hurting Cookie in a sexual way. Instead, Camilla guided Cookie to the king-sized bed in the middle of Hakeem's suite, letting Cookie straddle her face. Cookie threw back her head, grinding her hips against the roughness on Camilla's tongue until she screamed as her body jolted.

"It's okay, Cookie," Camilla soothed as Cookie slid off of Camilla's tongue, trembling uncontrollably. For a while, the two of them said nothing, kissing and caressing each other's bodies until Cookie's shaking was under control.

"What _is_ this, anyway?" Cookie finally remembered to ask. She playfully rubbed the hard object under Camilla's skirt that had been poking Cookie all night.

"Oh. Right." Camilla had forgotten all about what was underneath her clothes. Without breaking her gaze from Cookie's, Camilla stood up and began to undress at last, filling Cookie with a mixture of desire and envy. If Camilla was flawless with her clothes on, her beauty was indescribable without them. Cookie had a nice body for a woman in her 40s, but Camilla had a body that anyone would kill to have. It was hard not to be just a _little_ jealous, so Cookie concentrated on the one thing that was out of place – the long, purple appendage belted around Camilla's waist. "A strap-on?" Cookie sat up. "What kind of freaky bitch walks around in a strap-on?"

"Your son loves it," Camilla said glibly. "Now turn over."

Before Cookie could digest that statement, she was face down on the bed. Camilla bent over and peppered Cookie's thighs and butt with kisses. "If I need to put some lube on this thing, let me know, okay? But I think you're wet enough to take this as you are." She dipped her head low to lick Cookie from her clit to asshole, circling her tongue over and over around her lower hole. "Yep. You're fine." Camilla stood up and slapped Cookie on the ass. "But like I said, let me know."

In prison, Cookie often heard some of the inmates joke about how women could do it to women better than men. As Camilla slid the toy into Cookie's wet pussy in one smooth, fluid movement, Cookie started believing that there was a bit of truth in that. "You know…" Camilla observed between strokes, as if they were having a normal, pleasant conversation. "I read…somewhere… _damn, Cookie_ …that this whole… _shit, girl_ …thrusting motion… _ohhh_ , _God_ …doesn't…come naturally…to women. I've worked- _whew!_ -very hard…to get this right. _(Whap!)_ Feel free to thank me at any time."

A sharp slap to Cookie's ass alerted her that _any time_ actually meant _right now_ , but Cookie couldn't have formed a coherent thought if she tried. Camilla was an absolute beast, switching from her tongue to her strap-on, never staying in one spot on Cookie's body for too long. "You know, Cookie, I would _love_ to see what this cock looks like going in and out of this perfect fanny of yours." Camilla kissed both of Cookie's cheeks. "Hold them open," she ordered.

Cookie did what she was told without hesitation. She was rewarded with Camilla's tongue plunging in and out of her ass, over and over until Cookie was nearly biting through the pillow. "Have you ever been tongue fucked in your arse before tonight?" Camilla asked, knowing good and well that she hadn't.

"No." Cookie couldn't believe that this was happening. It figured that a nasty bitch like Camilla would get off on tongue fucking somebody's ass. But what did it say about Cookie that she was fucking her son's lover and enjoying every second of it?

"Would you like to feel my cock in your arse, Cookie?" Camilla asked as Cookie began to throw her body back so that Camilla's strap-on could go insider of her deeper and deeper. This delighted Camilla, who moved her body forward to meet her halfway. So Cookie wanted to act like a big girl. _How cute._

"Yes." Cookie's throat was dry. Her thighs and abs burned from being on her hands and knees all night.

"Yes, what? Tell me what you want to feel, Cookie."

"I wanna…oh, my God…I wanna feel your dick in my ass, Camilla."

"Hmm. Maybe next time." If Camilla disliked Cookie as much as she thought, she could've _really_ fucked Cookie's night up. "For now…sit up. Let's give you a little break." Camilla pulled the condom off her dildo and tossed it the trash. She leaned back on the palms of her hands, arched her back and spread her legs, which were dangling over the bed. Camilla's heels were still on her feet. "Suck my cock, Cookie," Camilla ordered. "Slow."

Cookie obediently went down to her knees on the floor. "You might wanna hold this 1988 ponytail out of my way," she suggested, placing her naked body between Camilla's legs. She kissed the tip of Camilla's neon purple prick before she took the tip into her mouth, sucking the head so cutely that Camilla had to smile. Camilla hadn't expected Cookie to actually suck her off.She'd merely been talking shit so she wouldn't have another orgasm. "Wow, Cookie," Camilla admired. "You suck so pretty…" Even though Camilla couldn't feel the full effect of Cookie's mouth taking in more and more of her cock, the visual was a beautiful one, especially when Cookie locked eyes with Camilla.

Before long, every bit of purple had disappeared down Cookie's throat, Cookie's lips were dangerously close to Camilla's clit, and Camilla's willpower was beginning to weaken. When Cookie stuck her our tongue, Camilla pulled back, though it nearly killed her to do so. "Ah-ah-ah!" Camilla jerked Cookie's chin upwards. "Naughty girl. That's not for you."

"Please, Camilla?" The chemistry between the two of them was starting to shift. "Let me pay you back." Cookie had always been a pleaser. It wasn't in her way to just sit back and let someone else – well, Lucious – do all the work. But tonight, Cookie hadn't done a damn thing, and despite having both her mind and her back blown out, she was a little frustrated that she wasn't being allowed to return the favor.

In a way, Camilla felt cheated, even as she took immense satisfaction at watching Cookie crumble. Camilla, who enjoyed a good threesome as much as anybody else, was supposed to be with Hakeem and that young girl tonight. Camilla had expected Cookie to match her lick for lick, especially considering all the shit Cookie talked, until one of them surrendered to the other. But Cookie's love for Lucious kept her pussy-free for 17 years, leaving her completely unprepared for what Camilla had to give. What should have been an aggressive _tête-à-tête_ was over almost as soon as it started.

Deep down, Camilla was proud – scratch that, _honored_ – to be Cookie's first female lover. Her heart went out to this woman, whose loyalty had led to her losing the best years of her life for a man who didn't deserve it. Camilla could still remember the first time she made love to a woman, and she hoped that Cookie was receiving as much pleasure as Camilla experienced on that night over 25 years ago. But she would never, _ever_ admit that out loud.

"You disappoint me, Cookie," was all Camilla said when it was over.

Cookie was nearly asleep when Camilla half-tossed Cookie off her dick and stood up, rolling the used condom off and tossing it into the trash can. "Just as I thought. You're all mouth."

The strap-on made a _clunk_ as Camilla unfastened it from her waist and tossed it on the table. Camilla pulled put two more condoms from her purse and tossed them on the table. "Here. Practice on yourself while I'm gone. Lube's on the other side of the bed if you want to try that whole fanny fucking thing."

Cookie, still dizzy and quaking and wondering what the hell had just happened, could only watch as Camilla prepared to leave. What was there to say? Camilla had won. She'd bested Cookie in every possible way, and she hadn't even had to leave her own suite to do it. Cookie would be lucky if she could _crawl_ to her suite, much less walk out. And if Hakeem were to come in…

Camilla flipped off the lights and opened the suite door to leave. "Try to be gone before Hakeem and I get back," she called over her shoulder.

As Camilla reached back to close the door behind her, her jacket and purse in hand, something caught her eye. "Wow," Camilla said at the sight of Cookie lying in the moonlight. "You're beautiful, Cookie."

 _She_ was beautiful? This chocolate goddess who had graced every magazine and every runway over the past 20 years was calling Cookie beautiful? "Why…?" was all Cookie finally managed to say, her body still trembling from Camilla's touch.

"Because if we're going to spar, we're going to spar as equals. Now you have half a chance against your little kitty cat. One day, you might even be able to take me on. But judging by your sorry performance tonight, I won't hold my breath." Camilla smirked. "Give me a call if you ever want to try again. Your son has my number."

Just as Camilla was about to leave, Cookie spoke up. "Thank you," she said softly, humbled by everything that had happened.

It was the nicest thing Cookie had said to Camilla all night. "My pleasure, Cookie," Camilla said, and she meant it. She closed the door behind her, leaving Cookie in her son's suite wearing nothing but her thoughts.

Jamal sounded terrific. Absolutely _terrific_. Anika couldn't help but clap along with everybody else in the place, even when Lucious shot her a look as if he was about to slap the shit out of her. Then he just left her there. He just _left_. They didn't even get to announce their pending nuptials.

 _Nobody cares that he's gay, Lucious!_ Anika wanted to scream. Wasn't that the good news? Lucious always claimed that his main concern was that people would try to strike back at Jamal. Now that wasn't going to happen. So why was Lucious still so pissed off?

Lucious's suite card key was in Anika's purse, meaning that she had his luxury suite to herself. She knew she should have been trying to track her fiancée down, but Anika was so hacked off by Lucious's reaction to Jamal that she didn't care if she saw him at all that night.

Stepping off the elevator and onto the third floor, Anika caught the legendary Camilla Marks coming from around the corner. Anika had met her earlier, and she felt like a little girl in the presence of such perfection. But compared to a few hours earlier, something about Camilla was way off. Camilla's lipstick was smeared all over the lower half of her face and her hair was wild, especially the back. Either Camilla was drunk, high, or both.

"Heyyyy," Camilla greeted, smiling widely. "You're Lucious's girl, right? Anika?"

"His fiancée," Anika corrected. "Good to see you again, Camilla." She studied Camilla's bizarre behavior. "Are you okay?" Anika knew Camilla was a big girl, but the last thing Anika wanted was for anyone to be taken advantage of under the influence of drugs or alcohol.

The older woman tittered. "Oh, I'm fine. I just came back from a party in my suite. Room 317." Camilla pulled out her key card from her purse. "You should drop by, Anika, since you're the guest of honor."

 _Guest of honor?_ "Me?" Judging by the way Camilla was acting, there was nothing on the other side of that door that Anika could possibly want to get into. "I don't know anybody here except Lucious and his sons."

Camilla giggled, swaying a bit. "Oh, you definitely know who's throwing this party. And believe me, you don't want to miss it." Camilla stepped forward, tilted Anika's chin and kissed her deeply. Anika froze at first, then relaxed. She hadn't been with a woman since grad school, but Anika knew fresh pussy when she tasted it. It had been too long since she'd had some, and now was as good a time as any.

Ducking around a corner, Anika sucked on Camilla's tongue as Camilla gently nibbled Anika's lips. For a while, the two of them let their hands roam freely across each other's bodies, making out without a care in the world. "Fuck me, Anika," Camilla begged. Anika slid her fingers inside Camilla's cunt, and Camilla rode Anika's hand until her cum dripped down Anika's hand palm and wrist. "Oh, God!" she gasped, biting down on Anika's shoulder. "Thank you," Camilla murmured in the crook of Anika's neck after she came, her cum dripping down Anika's hand. "God, I've been holding that back all night."

The women kissed deeply again until the elevator dinged. That's when Anika jumped back. A familiar scent was burning into Anika's brain and mixing with the taste of pussy in her mouth, and neither scent nor taste belonged to Camilla.

 _Congratulations. You look pretty._

"I warmed her up for you," Camilla murmured in Anika's ear, kissing her neck gently as she pressed her key card in Anika's left hand. She grabbed Anika by her chin, and Camilla's voice turned to steel. " _Don't_ fuck this up, little girl."

 _Room 317._ Anika was suddenly filled with a burst of energy. She'd been waiting for this moment since the day she met Cookie Lyon. "Trust me, Camilla," Anika promised, with the taste of Cookie Lyon all over her lips. "I won't."

END


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